When I came down in the morning I found we were all ready to start. Madame was mounted, and de Clermont was standing to assist me to my horse. It all seemed so strange after the crisis of last night. I had not schooled myself. I had not had time to meet de Clermont with unconcern, and overcome by a sudden shyness I declined his aid, and he said in his cool, level voice: "You are very proud this morning." The touch of proprietorship in his tone, which he so often used towards me, and to which I had hitherto submitted, jarred on me now, and in a moment my courage had come back. I looked him full in the face and answered: "It is necessary to be proud sometimes, monsieur." Our eyes held each other for an instant, and for the first time I saw in his clear blue glance an expression of hesitation and surprise, and I felt that the compelling power of his look was gone, and then--he dropped his gaze, and stepping back lifted his hat without a word; but I saw the white line of his teeth close on his nether lip. Then we started, and de Clermont dropped away to the rear of the party, leaving Madame de Termes and myself alone. She was full of the strange song of last night. "I had heard of his voice before," she said, "but never thought it was anything like that. St. Siege!" and she gave a little shudder. "I am an old woman; but it was maddening. I forgot everything. I could think of nothing except that sorrow in that last verse--the poor man, the poor man!" And the dear old lady's eyes filled once more with tears at the recollection. "But it was not a good song," she went on in a moment, "it was a beautiful evil thing, and he shall sing it no more. I will speak to him. It is wrong. It is wicked to touch the heart as that song can. He is very silent and grave to-day. I wonder if it affected him as it did me?" But I made no answer, for my mind was full of other things, of the hopeless love in the heart that I thought so strong and brave, and of the wondrous power that had come over me and enabled me to be victor over myself, and I cast up an unspoken prayer that this strength should be continued to me, and then I found de Clermont once more by my side. Madame kept her word about the song, and he said gravely: "I promise. I will never sing it again. It hurts me, too," and, changing the subject, other matters were spoken about. In a little I found myself separated from Madame, and de Clermont, bending forward, said: "I have news I should have given before that will interest you, madame--something you ought to know--of M. de Lorgnac." "Is it really of importance?" "I think so. It will remain for you to decide." "Then what is it, monsieur?" "I cannot well tell you here. We will let them go onward, and ride slowly behind."